The Widow Bryan
by Willful Redhead
Summary: Just something fun
1. Chapter 1

Daniel Boone glanced around the encampment. It was the sort of group you would expect to see: families hoping for a new start, young men for a chance to own their own piece of land, two spinster sisters who'd given up on finding a man to look after them, a debtor or two who had come to start fresh. They were all bright, determined and hopeful; ready for a brand new life. Trouble was, apparently one of them was a spy. And so after receiving a request from the militia, he had told his children to mind their Ma, kissed his wife even as she'd stomped her foot in frustration and joined the new settlement. He'd arrived in the second wave of settlers, one Daniel Brown, trapper, bachelor, and adventure seeker.

He was watching everyone, trying to determine who might be a British spy, when a voice near him said, "Don't bother looking. Of course, we are expecting one more group of settlers tomorrow so their might be better options."

Daniel turned and found a fair-haired young man standing beside him.

"My name's Peter Olsen." He said holding out his hand.

"Daniel Brown." He said shaking it.

"I hear you're a bachelor too. Daniel nodded.

"Well, its slim pickings right now. Where are you from?" Olsen asked.

"My family's in Pennsylvania." Daniel answered truthfully. "But it was too crowded there for my taste. What about you?"

"Oh, I've been all over. No family to speak of - at least not yet." He smiled and then a group of women caught his eye. "Excuse me." He said and walked towards them.

Thomas Gladstone, the leader of the settlement, approached him. "I see you arrived safely, Mr. Brown."

"Yes, sir." Daniel said with a grin.

"I suggest you rest up tonight. I put you on wall detail tomorrow." He glanced at Daniel. "Although it seems to me you are no stranger to work. Some of these men here have never seen an ax or a hammer before."

"I can hold my own." He said. "And hopefully, this next group will have some hard-working fellas in it."

"I hope so. It is just a few more families, a pair of brothers, and a widow. I guess we'll see. Good night, Mr. Brown."

"Good night, sir."

Daniel sipped the last of his coffee. It wasn't very good, but then neither was the meal. Of course, he tended to be a hard judge of cooking. Rebecca had spoiled him completely, and he generally found it difficult to eat food cooked by anyone else - including his own. He watched as everyone scattered to their make-shift homes. He turned in to his own tent, stretching his long legs out on the hard ground. He hoped to unravel this mystery quickly. He'd built a settlement already and knew it was nothing but gruelling, hard work. He shifted trying to find a comfortable spot. He tried not to think of his soft warm bed at home with Rebecca curled at his side. Of course, he didn't imagine she'd be snuggling up to him any time soon. She'd been less than supportive of his coming here. He hoped that by the time he returned, her temper would have cooled some, although experience made him doubt it. He closed his eyes and dreamt of being chased by a red-haired bear who lured him into his cave with warm biscuits, and then ate him.


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel straightened his tall frame, stretching his back. He had spent the day cutting timber to build the walls of the new fort. He was discovering that it was an altogether different thing to construct a fort with a group of strangers. The last time he'd done it, he was building a life for himself and his family with close friends at his side - now he was just pretending, and he found the labor more tedious because of it.

The men who worked alongside him, all seemed honest and deeply vested in the world they were constructing. They were generally friendly, open and focused on creating a secure home for their families. All of them except one: Matthew Merriweather was silent almost furtive. He offered short one-word responses to any questions that Daniel asked him. Daniel decided he'd keep his eye on him.

They returned late in the evening and so had missed the arrival of the newest group, as well as supper. Food had been saved for them, and Daniel hoped it was better than the breakfast they had been served before heading out. He had tried to give the breakfast a fair shake, but had found it nearly inedible.

He must have been too hungry from the day's labor to taste the food, or the cooking had vastly improved, because the only thought that filled his head as he bit into his supper was: delicious.

Peter Olsen came over to him. "Have you ever tasted anything that good?" He asked enthusiastically. "Not only are there some pretty woman in this group, but one of them cooks like you wouldn't believe. Everyone has been talking about it all day. You fellas really missed out though. Her biscuits made you want to cry! They were that good. They are all gone now, though. I may have to marry her."

"Pretty girl?" Daniel asked smiling.

"She's a widow, but she's not old. Her husband must've died of joy from her cooking, is the only thing I can figure. I don't know where she's at. Probably surrounded by every bachelor in camp. Just look for a cluster of hungry looking men. She's a pretty thing too. A redhead with bright blue eyes. Let me see if I can spot her." He walked away searching the camp for her.

"Wait," Daniel said slowly, following him. "Did you say she's a redhead?" He scanned the group, and seeing her, he dropped his plate.

"Are you crazy?" Mr. Jones said watching the food fall to the ground.

He walked straight up to her, feeling his temper rise with every single step. Peter was standing beside her.

"Ah, Widow Bryan, this is Daniel Brown." She turned and smiled at him.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" He said angry.

"Oh, Mr. Brown. How good to see you." She said.

"You two know each other?" Peter asked surprised. "What are the odds?"

"Mr. Brown, was a friend of my husband." She said her eyes downcast.

"Poor man. He suffered terribly." Daniel said.

"I thought you said he died suddenly in his sleep." Peter said turning to Rebecca.

"Oh, he suffered for years before that." Daniel said reaching out and grabbing Rebecca by the arm. "Pardon us, we've got so much to catch up on."

"I'll see you at breakfast then, Widow Bryan!" Peter said hopefully.

"Yes, until then!" She called over her shoulder as Daniel led her away from her crowd of admirers.

"Rebecca! What do you think you are doing?" He demanded.

"Mr. Brown," She began with a smile.

"Oh, don't you, Mr. Brown, me! Where are Mima and Israel?"

"Mima's staying with Elizabeth so she's happy as can be, and Israel is with Mingo. He couldn't wait for me to leave! They are perfectly fine." She crossed her arms and watched him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked again.

"Well, you and I both know if you really want to find out anything, you need to talk to the women. The gossips know everything that is going on - and they'd never talk to you, so I decided . . ."

"You decided?" He interrupted her.

"I'm a grown woman, Daniel. I can make decisions." She glared at him. "I decided to come along. I figured it might speed things up." She smiled at him. He did not smile back.

"I don't even know what to say." He said walking away from her. He paced a few feet from her. She caught little snips of him muttering to himself: "Difficult, stubborn, willful, and impossible" were the only words she could understand.

She stood waiting, her hand on her hip. "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" She asked. "It will be dark soon, and it wouldn't be appropriate for me to standing here in the dark alone with you."

"Appropriate! Rebecca Bryan Bo . . ." He exploded, but she shushed him before he finished.

Taking her by the arm again, he whispered fiercely. "You go over there and tell that Mr. Gladstone that you've changed your mind, and could you please borrow a horse because you are heading back home."

"I will not." She said stubbornly.

"Becky . . ." He warned.

"You want me to go back and sit in the cabin and wait? You told me yourself that it was fairly safe here, didn't you? Why, you said I was being silly for worrying! Are you saying that's not true? Are you saying it is dangerous?"

"I never said you were silly . . ." He began.

"And besides, back at home I am all alone with the Shawnee and Cherokee not more than ten miles from us. At least here you can watch over me." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "You think just because I'm a woman, I don't ever want to see what's outside my front door? I'm tired of sitting at home lonesome, wondering and worrying whether or not you're safe. And this time around I can actually be of use to you and you know it." Her cheeks were pink with fury and her blue eyes glittered.

He sighed, and rubbed his head. He suddenly had a horrible headache.

"What's the matter?" She asked softening, concern on her face. "You have a headache? I'll get a cold compress for it." She reached out to touch his forehead but he pushed her hand away.

He looked at her and thought briefly about picking her up, slinging her over his shoulder and carrying her home. Trouble was Rebecca was strong and she could kick pretty hard. She did have a point too; she could help him by spying on the women-folk.

"Yes, I've got a headache!" He said to her ferociously. "It stands just over five feet tall and answers to 'Rebecca'!" They stared at one another.

"Dan, you know I'm right." She smiled up at him batting her eyes.

He sighed. "You better go." He said defeated. "The sun's going down. I won't have your reputation ruined."

She winked at him. "Later, you'll remember why you love me." She whispered.

"You better hope so." He said. "You stay away from that Peter Olsen. He's too forward." He said as she walked away laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

The line for breakfast was long. He stood near the end of it watching her. He had hardly slept. First, he couldn't fall asleep because he was still too angry and then later, he kept wondering where her tent was and if she'd made sure to bury the stakes deep so it wouldn't blow over if a storm came through. He looked around trying not to be distracted by the four bachelors around her, but to focus on the task at hand. He saw Merriweather sitting alone, and with one eye on Rebecca, he walked over to him.

"Morning." Daniel said.

"Morning." Merriweather said and rose and walked away.

Daniel sighed. He looked down at his plate. He smiled. She'd made his favorite breakfast. He looked up at her, and across the crowd of settlers, she winked at him. He looked down quickly so she couldn't see his grin.

"Dig in, Mr. Brown. That widow sure can cook. Someone said you knew her husband?" Gladstone said sitting next to him.

"Oh, we were friends as boys." He said. "You ought to see her fire a rifle!" He couldn't help bragging a bit.

"She can shoot too?" Gladstone was impressed.

"Gladstone," He said changing the subject, "Did everyone here join up from reading one of your fliers. Or did you know some of 'em?" He asked.

"Well the Smith's are relatives of my wife - cousins and we've known the Peterson's for about three years but the rest are strangers like you."

Daniel thought it over. The spy would be one of the strangers, he figured. He glanced around. Becky was talking and smiling with the spinster sisters.

He rose and joined the other men to start work on the south wall. The day was ferociously hot and some of the men were clueless as to building a wall, making it a frustrating morning. Around noon, some the ladies came by with buckets of water and the men paused in their work.

"Thirsty, Mr. Brown?" Becky asked him. He nodded and she came closer. He took the ladle from her and drank the cool water.

"Did you remember yet?" She asked him.

"I'm still thinking on it." He told her. She smiled at him.

"You look wore out." She said. "Didn't you sleep?"

He shook his head at her. "Too mad."

She looked down pouting. He steeled himself.

"Oh, no you don't." He said. "I will not feel guilty for being angry. You would be just as mad at me if I went off and made a decision without even telling you . . ." His voice trailed off as he realized he had done just that, a hundred times over.

She studied him thoughtfully with a loving smile on her face. She leaned closer and whispered, "You know what I love about you, Daniel?"

He shook his head. She smiled, and saying nothing walked away.

Peter walked over to him. "You thinking of courtin' her?" He asked.

"Who?" Daniel asked confused.

Peter looked at him like he was crazy. "The Widow Bryan!"

"Oh, I don't know." Daniel said indifferently. He turned back to his work. He noticed Arthur Hopkins standing alone. He saw him drop something on the ground and then walk quickly away. Curious, Daniel climbed down from where he was working and tried to find what he'd dropped but could find nothing.

He had just about fallen asleep in his supper when he saw a pebble drop onto his plate. Looking up, he saw her back disappearing with a group of women. He looked at the pebble and saw there was a piece of paper wrapped around it. He studied the note she had written. Midnight. Elm. He smiled thinking of midnight.


	4. Chapter 4

He waited for her under the elm tree that was just a 1/2 mile from the fort they were constructing. The moon was nearly full and she was surrounded by a silver glow as she approached. She was dressed in black, of course, but had her green shawl wrapped around her slim shoulders. Watching her he remembered once finding Mima alone in the barn. She was all dressed up and ready for a social and she was crying.

"_What's the matter, Mima?" He had asked her._

"_Did you see Ma?" She asked. "Did you?"_

"_I was standing next to her when you ran out the house. I couldn't help it." He said confused._

"_I'm NEVER in a million years EVER gonna be that pretty." She cried harder._

"_Oh," He said softly. "You are beautiful Mima."_

"_You're my Pa, what do you know." She said stubbornly._

"_Well, I know pretty when I see it. I spotted your Ma, didn't I?" He smiled at her._

"_Ma's so pretty sometimes it hurts to look at her." She said._

"_I know just what you mean." He agreed. "But times on your side, Mima. Your Ma will get old long before you do."_

"_That's true." She said hopefully. "You really think I'm pretty?" She asked looking up at him with her enormous brown eyes._

"_Most definitely." He said kissing her. "Now, can we go? I'm starving for that apple crisp you made."_

He looked at her now and agreed with his daughter, sometimes she _was_ so pretty it hurt to look at her. He tried to focus on why he was angry with her. She smiled up at him.

"Did anyone see you leave?" He asked. She shook her head. He felt suddenly shy and awkward, like the first time he'd ever tried to speak to her.

"What's wrong?" She asked him. "I know you're angry and I am sorry. You have a right to be. I just got an idea and rushed ahead. I didn't really think about how it would seem from your point of view."

"It is unfair of me to just leave you behind. I know that. I would hate it if you did the same to me. I sometimes wonder why you put up with it. I'm sorry for being so angry with you." He said looking down. She smiled and took hold of his hand. Her fingers were cool and soft against his skin.

"I was talking to Margaret and Helen, the spinster sisters. They both think that Matthew Merriweather is a deeply suspicious man. His wife won't so much as say hello to me. She's a tiny little thing and looks about as secretive and sad as can be. I'm going to try and work alongside her tomorrow. They also heard a rumor that Arthur Hopkins is a convict, but I haven't seen him yet. Have you?"

"He dropped something today, near the edge of the woods, but when I went to see what it was, I couldn't find it."

"They didn't say much about anyone else - except for Peter Olsen. They think he's quite handsome! Oh, and Helen, the younger sister, is rather taken with you."

"Me?" He asked surprised.

"She said you were the strong, silent type and had a poet's soul." She grinned at him.

"Oh, good Lord!" He said.

"You should write her a little sonnet. She'd probably burst into flames!" She laughed.

"I might just do that." He said. "You got yourself quite a little crowd following after you."

"They are just desperate for someone who can cook. You know half these women don't know how to do anything. I'm teaching them how to make butter tomorrow. Can you believe that?"

"It ain't your cooking that's got them following you around." He said putting his hand on her waist. "You're a widow. Aren't you supposed to look all sad and dowdy?"

"I tried." She said. "This is as dowdy as I get, I guess."

"Uh, huh." He said. He leaned in and kissed her soft lips.

"Daniel, someone might see." She said. "What have you found out anyway?"

"You got me all distracted. I haven't been able to focus like I should." He said frustrated. "It isn't like I don't like having you around me, Rebecca. It's just that when you are, I tend to sort of focus in on you. I spent half the night worrying if you were safe. Who put up your tent, anyways? You? Did you tie it off real tight? You know they are expecting some strong winds and I don't want you getting blown away in the middle of the night."

She laughed. "This is why you make me stay at home?"

"Well, to be honest, yes. And most times it isn't safe." She put up her hand in protest, but he continued on. "Oh, I know you can hold your own. I pity anyone who comes after you, but I need to stay focused and like I said, I get side-tracked when you are around. If I'm in the middle of the fight I need to focus on the other fella, not wonder if you are alright."

She kissed him. "You DO have a poet's soul. I'm gonna tell Helen she was right."

"Rebecca," He said. "Promise you'll be careful, and don't do anything fool-hardy. And try and look a little bit less beautiful, would ya? I don't like all them boys following after you."

"You remembered!" She said. "I knew you would."

He pulled her in tight, and kissed her again. "Rebecca I never forgot why I love you, but you have to admit you can be a bit difficult."

"I suppose that's true. My Ma always used to say, 'Heaven help the man who marries you!' I supposed she gets a good laugh out of watching you from above." She laughed. "I better get back, and you need some sleep. Don't fret about me, darling. I'm fine."

"Meet me here tomorrow night too." He said looking into her eyes. She nodded. She turned to go. He sighed watching her leave wishing he'd planned better and brought her with him as his wife. Then he could sleep with her in his arms each night. He headed back to his own tent. He laid awake most of the night thinking of the moonlight shinning on her soft, white skin.


	5. Chapter 5

It was just a few days later that he noticed Matthew Merriweather disappear right at supper time. He decided to follow him. He hung back just far enough so that Matthew couldn't see him. Rebecca had tried talking to his wife on many occasions and had not really made any headway. He had seen the two of them working together just that afternoon and hoped she'd been able to speak to her. He followed Matthew who appeared to be toting a small package wrapped in brown paper.

He went deep into the woods, and then got down on his hands and knees. Daniel watched as he carefully buried the package, and then turned and walked back to the fort. He waited and watched for a time to see if anyone was coming for the package, but no one did. He decided to dig it up and see for himself. Glancing around and making sure that no one was watching he dug up the package. He peeled back the layers of brown paper and his eyes grew wide in surprise. He stared hard at the contents for a minute, and then quietly, he wrapped the package back up and buried it beneath the soft dirt. He made a pile of three rocks to mark the spot and headed back to the fort.

The walls were nearly finished, and they had started working on the common house. Daniel was generally sore and tired. He was pleased to see how things were progressing, as far as the fort was concerned, but had been frustrated with his own progress. He wasn't really any closer to solving the mystery than when he'd started. He went over to the kitchen area to see if there was any supper left. He doubted it. Now that Rebecca was cooking, food disappeared quickly. He sat down on a bench and watched the crowds.

"Mr. Brown, you missed supper." She said.

"And I'm sorry for it." He said looking up at her.

"I saved you some." She said handing him a plate.

"You are an angel, Widow Bryan." He winked at her.

"We were worried you might starve." Helen said coming up alongside Becky. She smiled at him. Helen Mayhew was a tall, skinny, brown-haired, brown eyed woman with a long nose and impressively long neck.

He smiled politely. "That was thoughtful of you, Miss Mayhew." She beamed and next to her Rebecca arched an eyebrow.

He lifted his fork, uncomfortable under the watchful, hopeful eyes of Helen Mayhew. "I made those potatoes myself." Helen said proudly. "I wouldn't even let, Widow Bryan watch."

This fact had become abundantly clear as he tasted them. "They are quite unique." He said and swallowed them.

"Enjoy your supper." Rebecca said with a grin and thankfully, led Helen away. He sighed and waited until they were gone to feed the potatoes to a one of the guard dogs.

****************DB******************

She was already under the elm when he got there. She handed him something wrapped in her handkerchief. He opened it and found a biscuit, cheese and a piece of ham. He smiled at her.

"I don't deserve you." He said with a grin. She shoved his shoulder gently.

"I spent the day with Patience Merriweather." She said. "Forget about Matthew, Dan. They've nothing to do with it."

"I know." He said as he happily consumed the biscuit.

"How do you know?" She asked.

"I followed him. He went into the woods this evening, and buried something. I got curious and dug it up." He finished off the last of the biscuit. "God bless your Ma for teaching you to cook like that. That was so MUCH better than the food I was given earlier." She smiled at him.

"What did he bury?" She asked.

"A tiny little jacket, and a beautifully carved baby rattle." He said looking at her. He smiled sadly at her thinking of all they'd lost along the way.

"Two days before they came here, they lost a little baby boy." Rebecca said sadly. "She's fifteen years old, Dan. Their first child. Her mother died just last year."

He put his arms around her. "You talk to her?"

"I did. She's so young, and it is so hard. You should talk to Matthew, Dan." She looked up at him with sad eyes.

"How can I? I'm an old bachelor." He sighed.

"I forgot. Oh, I wish you could though. They are so hurt. He's only twenty-two. They are just babies themselves. He buried the clothes? That is so sad."

Daniel rubbed her back and kissed her on the cheek. "You keep talking to her Becky, and maybe I can find a way to talk to him. He's a private man. You should have seen that little rattle. It must have taken him ages to carve it." He sighed remembering their own sorrows. "Now that I think about it. You can tell he's feeling low. It's horrible when someone you love is hurting and there's nothing you can do about it. I've never felt so powerless in all my days." He looked at his wife thinking of the babies they'd lost, William, and Elizabeth, and of James.

She nodded her head saying nothing. "Its was a comfort just to have you near." She rested her head against his chest. "Poor things. They need each other terribly. Trouble is, neither one of them can talk about it because the are both hurt so badly." She said. "We were fully grown. She's just a little girl really."

He sighed. "The world is full of heartache, ain't it?"

"And joy." She said holding onto him tightly.

"I suppose you're right. I swore I'd never touch you again after we lost those babies one right after the other. I vowed I'd never make you suffer that loss again or have to feel that sorrow again. But if I had followed through with that, there would be no Israel." He said with a wink. "And that boy is nothing but joy."

"You did? I didn't know that." She said surprised.

"Well, I didn't really discuss it with ya. And I, uh, wasn't too successful with my plan anyway." He said with a grin. She smiled shyly at him.

"So," He said. "We can cross them off our list. Anyone I should be looking at besides Arthur?"

"I dunno. Maybe I am not too good at this spying. I got sidetracked by Patience. I haven't really paid attention to much else since I spoke with her."

"You are an excellent spy, Mrs. Boo -I mean Widow Bryan. We'll get to the bottom of it, yet. Now, you go and get tucked in to that bed of yours. You look tired." He squeezed her arm.

"I'd rather stay here with you, just a little bit longer." She said resting in the circle of his arms.

"Oh, that I don't mind one bit." He said resting his cheek on the top of her head.


	6. Chapter 6

The fort walls were complete and the common house was nearly finished. Soon everyone would begin working on their own homes. Daniel knew time was running out. He had not intention of building another home. The suspicious behavior of Arthur turned out to be nothing more than a man who was more than a little bit attached to rum. He had followed him as he disappeared outside the walls of the fort hoping to finally catch a spy at work. Instead he found him drunk, clutching an empty bottle or rum. Daniel was disappointed. He looked across the common area of the fort and could see Rebecca showing a group of ladies how to reload a rifle. He imagined later she'd be teaching them how to stand watch at the wall.

"There's nothing that woman can't do." Peter Olsen said watching her. "You sure you aren't interested?"

"Me?" Daniel asked. "I'm an old bachelor. I can't imagine getting married now. I'm too set in my ways."

"Alright, then. I was sort holding back because you seem to be always keeping your eye on her. But if you haven't got an interest, I plan to launch a full-scale attack." He smiled at him.

Daniel realized his mistake. He tried to think quickly and recover the situation, but it was too late to go back on his word now. "Good luck." He said and watched Peter walk over to Rebecca and offer to help her teach the ladies. He sighed. He'd better solve things quickly.

It was later in the day that she walked over to him. "How are you this afternoon, Mr. Brown." She asked as Gladys Ellington passed by them.

"You look tired." He said. "We can skip meeting tonight."

"I'm fine." She said. "It is just hot out. You know how the heat gets to me."

"Peter has decided to officially pursue you." He said trying to hide his jealousy.

"You aren't worried are you? I can manage him." She said with a smile. "I have something for you." She handed him a cookie. "We made them for the children, but I set one aside for you." She leaned in close to him and winked.

"I am fighting the strongest temptation to kiss you right now." He whispered.

"You are the third person to tell me that today." She said walking away with a smile.

*************DB*******************

Rebecca had fallen asleep. She hadn't meant to, but she was tired and had nodded off. She could tell it was past midnight. She rose quickly and slipping out quietly to meet Dan she almost ran right into Peter Olsen's back. She ducked quickly behind a tree. Thankfully he hadn't seen her. She wondered what he was doing out so late, and silently followed behind him.

He hiked a good five miles and then stood waiting. He smoked a cigar and leaned against a large stone. It must have been a good hour of waiting before she saw someone approach from the distant trees. It was a British officer. They stood talking together for some time, and then Peter walked back towards the fort. She remained hidden for another ½ hour before she too headed back to camp. It was getting close to dawn, and she knew she had to be back at her tent or people would start looking for her. She knew her way easily and so rushed along. If she had been less sure, perhaps she would've gone slower, and wouldn't have lost her footing. Sitting on the ground, she realized she had twisted her ankle. She tried to stand and put weight on it, but she had wrenched it badly. She was still just a mile from camp. She looked around for a stick to use as a crutch.

*****************DB****************

"What do you mean she didn't show up to help with breakfast?" Daniel said looking at Helen Mayhew.

"She isn't here, and she's not in her tent either. No one has seen her since last night." Helen said.

Daniel had waited at the elm for hours, but then figured that she'd fallen asleep. She had been so worn out that afternoon. He was actually relieved that she had decided to rest and decided not to panic, but to wait until breakfast. He'd wanted to go by her tent and see if she was sleeping, but knew that someone would surely see him. Her tent was on the opposite side of the fort with the other women. Men never even walked to that side of the fort. Now he was wishing he had. He felt a sick panic settling in.

"The Widow Bryan is missing." He heard Gladstone announce. "No one saw her last night? We should put together a search party."

They formed two groups and Daniel led one of them. Peter Olsen led the other. Distraught, Daniel had followed along in the other group, somewhat dazed. They spent hours combing the area, but found nothing. He was relieved as they entered the camp and were greeted by a pair of young girls who said, "They found her! She fell and was hurt!"

Daniel ran to her tent. She was lying on her bed with Silas Jones and his wife tending to her. Silas had the most medical knowledge and so he and his wife had been put in charge of injuries. She looked pale.

"I'm alright, Mr. Brown." She said quickly seeing his face. "I just twisted my ankle. I am fine."

"Which one?" He asked.

"The right one, but . . ." She said. Without thinking he pushed back her skirts and holding onto her pretty white leg, he examined her ankle.

"Mr. Brown!" Mrs. Jones said shocked. Rebecca smiled at him and pushed her skirts back down, gently pushing his hand away. "I'm alright, Mr. Brown. It is so kind of you to be worried."

He blushed and looked up suddenly realizing that the entire settlement was watching them. He met her eyes looking to her for help. She only grinned at him.

"I'm so sorry, Ma'am." He said. "I was just worried." He felt a rush of joy as he realized she was fine. He was overwhelmed with a desire to take her in his arms and kiss her. Looking at her sweet face, and her pretty blue eyes which were filled with laughter, he said suddenly, "Widow Bryan, would you marry me?"

She looked stunned, and the crowd watching them let out a collective gasp. He heard a voice behind him say, "Its about time!"

"Well?" He said, and he felt the whole settlement lean in to hear her answer.

"I would be honored." She said and held out her hand which he gallantly kissed.


	7. Chapter 7

They sat together at a table near the cooking area. Daniel enjoyed the fact that he could at last hold her hand without worrying if anyone was watching. He saw Rebecca studying his face and asked, "What are you thinking?"

She smiled. "How I'm going to find the time to sew a wedding dress. Oh! And can I please have a honeymoon trip this time?" She grinned at him. They were relatively alone, although two of the married ladies hovered nearby, no doubt keeping watch.

"Actually, I was thinking how lucky I am. You wanted to marry me even after twenty years and every one of them spent with my temper."

"I love your temper." He said smiling. "I can't believe you said yes twice." He smiled at her and squeezed her fingers. "How's your ankle? You never told me what happened?"

"It's not too bad." She said. "But Daniel, I've got to explain to you how I . . ."

"I can't believe you told me you weren't even interested." Peter said angrily as he walked up to them. "I asked you point blank and you told me to go on ahead."

"I'm sorry, Peter." He said. "I don't know. It wasn't until we couldn't find her that I realized that I cared so much."

"I can understand that." Peter said relenting a little. "What were you doing all alone out there anyway, Widow Bryan?"

"Oh, I got up just before dawn. I was meaning to make some bread this morning, and well, it was still dark. I just got disoriented I guess. I was probably more tired than I thought. I'm not used to the heat here. And then I got all tangled up in some vines and the next thing I know, I'm staring up at the sky." She said nervously.

"Well, I'm just glad we found you." He said.

"Yes, thank you." She said.

"Widow Bryan." Mrs Jones said to her. "It is getting dark. You should probably head back to your tent now."

Daniel smiled at her. "Oh, I remember this part of courtin'." He said with a laugh. He stood up. "Good-night, Widow Bryan." He lifted her hand and kissed it.

"Wait, Dan." She said, but realized Peter, Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Smith were all watching. "I mean, good-night." Frustrated, she allowed herself to be led back to her tent. She limped over to her cot, and sitting on it, she tried to decide what to do. She needed to speak with Daniel alone, but no one would permit it. Her ankle was still to weak for her to meet him under the elm. She sighed.

"Pardon me, may I come in." It was Helen Mayhew.

"Of course, Helen." Rebecca said.

"I just wanted to say my congratulations to you." Helen said sadly. "You must have thought me awfully silly - those things I said about Mr. Brown."

"Oh, not at all!" Rebecca said gently. "I must apologize. I know how you felt about him. I was surprised as could be when he proposed."

"You were?" Helen said. "Everyone around here has been talking about the two of you. I should've known better. He is always looking for you in the crowd."

"I didn't even notice." She said.

"I guess I'm not cut out for romance." Helen said. "Its just these books I read - mystery, romance and intrigue. It sort of gets in your head."

Rebecca smiled suddenly. "Would you like to particpate in some romance and intrigue?"

Helen looked at her smiling.

************DB**************

Helen hesitated. She was unsure how to approach Mr. Brown. She was never a bold woman. People intimidated her. She preferred the quietness of books.

"Can I help you with something?" Peter Olsen asked.

"I was supposed to give this note to Mr. Brown but he's in his tent, I think." Helen said nervously.

"I can take it to him for you." He flashed his white smile at her.

"Oh! Thank you! It's from the Widow Bryan." She handed him Rebecca's note and relieved, she returned to her tent.


	8. Chapter 8

The morning dawned crisp and at last there was a coolness in the breeze. Everyone seemed greatly cheered at the thought of a mild day. The heat of the last few days had taken its toll on everyone. Daniel rose and stretched his stiff frame. He had become weary of sleeping alone on the hard ground. Perhaps, Rebecca would consider a quick wedding in the next few days. He smiled at the thought.

He was greeted with many congratulations and a few of the old bachelors seemed to glare at him as he had snatched up, the most promising of all the women in the settlement. He grinned at their disappointment, which he realized was a bit unkind, but somehow he couldn't quite help himself.

Breakfast was a disappointment. Rebecca had not shown up for cooking duty, as her ankle was still swollen and puffy. Although, her teaching had improved the other ladies' cooking, it still wasn't the same. Daniel was surprised though. Rebecca had once cooked a meal with a broken wrist. The day they'd buried her sister she still managed to cook a meal that put Christmas dinner to shame. It was surprising that she would let a sprained ankle get in the way.

He looked around and saw the Merriweathers sitting close together. Matthew had his hand on Patience's arm. Looking at them, he realized Rebecca had been right; they were very, very young. He sighed remembering the last time he had married Rebecca. She had been just a girl herself - sixteen. He wondered if knowing all that lay ahead, if she still would have been so quick to say yes. He sighed and decided to go against decorum and make her a visit in her tent.

Helen Mayhew called out to him, "Good morning, Mr. Brown! Congratulations."

"Thank you, ma'am." He said. He tried to continue on his way to her tent, but she stopped him.

"Did you get the note?" She asked in a whisper.

"Note? What note?" He asked.

"Last night, Widow Bryan asked me to deliver a note to you. Did you get it?" She asked.

"No. You didn't bring me a note, did you?" He was puzzled.

"Oh, well you were already in your tent so I gave it to Mr. Olsen. He said he'd give it to you."

Daniel felt his stomach drop. He hadn't seen Peter at breakfast. He paled.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Brown?" Helen looked concerned.

"No, I was just, uh, trying to remember where I put that note." He smiled at her, and she left.

He went to her tent. He could see from the marks on the ground that there had been a struggle. He sank down onto her cot. The stick that he fashioned into a crutch for her was lying on the ground. He felt panic rising, and he wished he _had_ slung her over his shoulder and carried her home.


	9. Chapter 9

He had dragged her up into the hills. There was an abandoned shack tucked in a little glade. Although, it looked completely abandoned from the outside, inside it was sparsely furnished. He set her down inside on a rickety old chair. He had bound her hands and feet and pushed a cloth into her mouth to keep her quiet.

"Why have you taken me?" She asked when he took the cloth he put in her mouth out. "I've done nothing to you!"

"Really?" He said. "You followed me the other night!"

"I did no such thing. If you are angry that your pursuit of me was in vain, I apologize, but Mr. Brown . . ."

"What a conceited woman you are! You think this is because I am broken hearted over losing you to that oaf!" He laughed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the note she'd written to Daniel.

"Who are you really?" He asked. "The militia must be in desperate straits if they are sending women out!" She glared at him and then turned her head away.

"You don't have to talk, now. I'm turning you over to the British tonight. I'm sure they will find ways to motivate you." He smiled down at her. "You think that oaf is going to come looking for you?"

"If he does, you'll be dead before you ever spot him." She said coolly.

"Him? Please! He couldn't even track you when you went missing the other night. I would say I am disappointed in your choice. He isn't the smartest man, I've ever met. I should have know you were a spy. You are too sophisticated for him. They should have sent you out with a more convincing partner."

She sighed and watched him carefully. If she could just get him to step a bit closer to her . . .

"Well, it was his first assignment." She said. "I asked for someone with more experience, but you know how it is." She smiled prettily at him.

"The men at the top never know what its like out in the field. They just draw up their plans and leave the real work to us." He nodded and stepped a bit closer.

"You are really going to turn me over to the British? You know, I could be a help to you, and then you could be a hero. After all," She batted her lashes at him. "I know a lot of things about the militia."

"Please," He said. "I won't fall for your foolish attempts." But he took a step closer to say it. Rebecca smiled.

********DB**********

He stood waiting trying to be patient when all he felt was rising panic. It had taken some time for him to make Gladstone and the others understand. He had been frustrated with the time he'd wasted, but knew if she had been taken to the British, he would need some men to back him.

"But why would a spy come out here with us?" Gladstone asked again. "This isn't an important settlement. We are just a small community."

"It has to do with where you are located." Daniel struggled to keep his temper in check. "If the British were to get a foothold here, they'd have access to three different tribes. They would also have a fort so far in the interior of the country, they would be able to come from behind and surround us. If you had a map, I could show you. Listen, I'll explain it later. We need to go now. My wife is in trouble."

"Your wife?" Mr. Jones asked.

"No, the Widow Bryan, then. I need some men to come with me." He was losing time.

They followed the tracks easily, and he was surprised that Olsen hadn't worked harder to conceal them. Of course he was trying to manage Rebecca at the time, and Daniel knew from experience, that was no small thing. In the distance, they had spotted smoke. It appeared to be a large fire. The trail seemed to lead right to the smoke. He was surprised, but feared they were falling right into some sort of trap.

He left the others behind and decided to scout ahead. He told them to wait at least thirty minutes before coming to him. He followed the tracks until he found a small shack and just outside it was a camp fire. As he neared the camp, he smelled stew. He crawled up through the trees and bushes. He could see no soldiers. He saw only . . . Rebecca. Her back was to him and she appeared to be cooking.

He gave a soft wolf call. She stopped and looked up. "Daniel? I was wondering what took you so long! Come on out."

Confused, he made his way to her. She was stirring a pot of squirrel stew. "Becky? Are you alright? What happened to Olsen?"

"Oh, he's tied up inside." She said. She turned around and faced him then.

He reached out and held her chin. "He hit you? You got a black eye, Rebecca!"

"I'm alright it just hurts a little. Don't worry about it, Dan. I got him tied up. He was going to turn me over to the British. He had me all trussed up too. But, I remembered what you always did, and worked my hands free. Then when I'd convinced him to come close to me, I kicked him and hit him. He didn't expect it. I guess he figured I was some sort of helpless woman who can't defend herself. I fought him and tied him up." She said with a smile.

"And you decided to make stew?" He was incredulous.

"You look sort of pale, Daniel, maybe you better sit down." He found a large boulder and sat down a few feet from where she was cooking.

"I knew you were coming this way." She hobbled over to where he sat. "I knew I'd never make it back down to camp on this ankle so I built a big fire. And then I thought, you might be hungry when you got here. You came alone? Daniel what if there had been soldiers? That seems unwise." She stood with a hand on her hip.

It took him a full minute to before he was able to spit out "I don't even know what to say."

"I'm fine, Dan, really." She hobbled back over to the pot and stirred.

"Where'd you get the squirrels?" He asked.

"Oh, I shot 'em." She said. "I don't know how they'll taste. I didn't really have anything to season the stew, but I figured its better than nothing."

He stood up and walked towards her. He picked her up and set her down on the boulder. "Sit down, Rebecca." He said it angry. "Quit hobbling around on that foot."

He knelt in front of her and loosened the laces on her shoe. "Its swollen up something terrible. Don't you lie to me and tell me it doesn't hurt." He looked again at her eye. "That's swelling up too. He's tied up inside?" He looked at her, and rubbed his head. "Becky, I don't even . . . you make me crazy, you know that?" She nodded meekly.

"Alright, you sit here. I'm gonna have a chat with him." She caught hold of his sleeve.

"Leave your gun." She said. He glared at her. "Daniel, leave it." He sighed and set it down.

"I don't need a gun to kill him." He said looking at her.

It was dark in the shack, and it took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He found Olsen just as she said, tied to the chair. His face was a mess of bruises.

"You keep that little hellcat outside!" Olsen said to him.

Daniel smiled, happy that Olsen had given him an excuse. He slammed him hard in the jaw and then again in the gut, knocking the chair over. Daniel stood above him and said, "Don't you ever lay a hand on my wife! I'll kill you if you so much as even think a bad thought in her direction." He reached down, and righted the chair on which Olsen sat and remembering her black eye, he hit him once more. The chair rocked back and forth.

"Stop!" Olsen yelled.

"I'm turning you over to the militia." He glanced at him and moved towards him. Olsen flinched. "Who do you think taught her to fight?" He said and turned and walked out. Gladstone and the other men had finally arrived and were heading towards the shack when Daniel stepped out.

"Mr. Jones is looking at the Widow Bryan. She's fine. Did you kill him?" Gladstone asked.

Daniel shook his head. "I considered it. We'll turn him over to the militia over near Riverton."

"We were gonna make a supply run anyway. Peterson and Smith can take him. Seems to me, you done enough." Gladstone smiled at him. Daniel nodded.

He turned and walked past the other men who were gathered around the pot of stew, and straight over to Rebecca. She was talking to Mr. Jones.

". . . it doesn't hurt too bad." She was saying.

"Excuse me," Daniel said. He reached over and lifted her up into his arms and headed down the hill and back to camp. The men all watched them leave.

"If you get me a stick, I can walk." She said. He ignored her. "Dan, it is five miles back to camp, at least."

"More like seven." He said. "I'm not talking to you, anyways."

She laughed. "You are carrying me seven miles, but you aren't talking to me?"

"Looks that way." He said.

"You are angry?" She asked him. "Daniel, I tried to get a note to you. But somehow Peter got it. It isn't like I went after him myself. I'm not that foolish." He stared at her.

She sighed. "You re-thinking the wedding, then?" She asked him with a grin.

"I told you I'm not talking to you." He repeated. "I'm taking you home and locking the door."

"You're gonna carry me all the way back to Kentucky?" She asked.

"I might. Stop talking to me." He said.

"Fine." She said. "But could you turn me around the other way. The button on your shirt keeps hitting my eye."

He stopped where he was and set her down on a fallen tree. He leaned in and studied her eye.

"It's swollen shut. I'm sorry, Becky. I didn't mean to hurt you." He touched her cheek tenderly.

She laughed out loud. "Daniel Boone, I thought you weren't talking to me." She kissed him. "I'm alright. It doesn't hurt too much, and it will be better by next week. You didn't kill him, did you?"

"No, you made me leave the gun." He said. "You beat him up pretty good. His face was a mess. Let me see your hand."

He examined it. "You got a bruise there too. Does it hurt?"

She smiled at him. "A little bit. It's alright. I remembered what you taught me." He smiled, remembering teaching her how to throw a punch.

She put her hands on his shoulders. "You still mad?"

"Woman, you got me so confused, I don't know what I am. I about died of fear when I realized Peter took you, and then I find you just sitting there, making stew! You got an ankle the size of a pumpkin and a black eye, and you decide to make stew. Who does that? Rebecca, promise me you are done with being a spy. THIS is why I have to leave you at home. My heart cannot manage it. You are going to be the death of me."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you, really." He sighed and kissed her. "See if you can find me a stick to lean on." She said again.

"Uh, uh." He said and lifted her back up into his arms. "I'd rather have you here in my arms where I know you can't get into any trouble. Comfy?"

"Perfectly." She said and snuggled against him. She was sound asleep by the time they made it back to the fort.


	10. Chapter 10

Rebecca searched the crowd for Daniel. She saw him standing off to the side talking to Matthew Merriweather. He had his hand on Matthew's shoulder. She smiled and joined Helen at one of the tables near the cooking area. Three of the tables were piled high with food.

"You must have thought me awfully, silly, going on about your husband that way." Helen said to her.

"I have to ask your forgiveness." Rebecca said. "I am so embarrassed that I didn't say anything to you. Can you forgive me?"

Helen smiled, "Of, course. I understand about intrigue."

"I agreed with everything you said about him, anyway." Rebecca said with a smile.

Daniel walked over to her. "You look beautiful!" He said putting his arm around her.

"Well, I must admit that I had grown tired of the color black. And at least this dress matches my eye!" She had traded in her black mourning dress, for her best green satin. Her eye was healing but was now a bright yellowish-green.

"You look beautiful anyways." He said kissing her cheek.

Although, Rebecca had suggested that they go ahead with the wedding, they had eventually confessed that they were in fact already married. There was a collective sigh of disappointment from the settlement, as they had been looking forward to the upcoming wedding and celebration.

"Well, we could still have the party." Gladstone had said after one of his young daughters had burst into tears saying, "No, party?"

"We can celebrate the completion of the fort, and your success. Everyone loves a party."

"We will miss you." Patience Merriweather said softly to Rebecca. Rebecca squeezed her arm smiling at her.

"We will have to come back and visit you." She said to the young girl. "You write me, alright."

Patience nodded and then walked away to find her husband.

"I cannot believe that girl is old enough to be a married woman. She looks like Jemima." He said watching her leave.

"I was that young when you courted me." She said. His eyes grew wide.

"No! That's not possible!" He studied her. "You want to dance?"

She smiled at him and nodded.

They joined the other dancers. He whirled her around, but carefully. Her ankle was not completely healed.

"Ankle, alright?" He asked her.

"It is good for just one dance, I'm afraid." She said smiling up at him. "Looks like it is your lucky day!"

"Oh, Rebecca, since the day I met you, every day is my lucky day." He bent to kiss her as the dancers whirled around them.


End file.
